Recall
by SusanneKelly
Summary: What if, I don't want to remember when I wake up? Chp 2: 'Wake up, he said. I will take you places.' - 'How long does it take for me to wake up? Not until the streets of Paris became flooded with blood.'
1. Time

**Time**

_At that moment, time stopped. I fell into the fire with no-one catching me._

Shin once told me that everything is incredibly simple if you think about it long enough.

Oddly enough, I trust this intuition.

* * *

('_Hey you_')

Summer here has always been so hot. Leaves struggled to stay green, oceans roared at us and the places that we loved so much becomes so unbelievably infuriating… of course, I will spare you the usual imageries associated with this season. But I have to admit, the whole season just reminds me of a smothering blanket of heat wave. Whether it is trying to suffocate me before my eventual death, or it is a way of the world trying to hold onto me, I can't tell.

At the same time, it is my favourite season. I loved a world where everything stays still. A static world is like a motion picture, with you walking amongst the sea of questionable cardboard cutouts. Shin always said that they are of people, but I think it's the memories they once held. Nevertheless, it is at this time, you can point and just say, 'hey, I recognize that person!' But at the same time, they are soundless and nameless. I don't have to say hi to them anymore.

('_Rude'_, so he said)

They say that this world is at a perfect standstill, and I couldn't agree more. I have my university work to do, teaching Shin as much as I possibly can (without making myself looking like an idiot, that is), working, messing around with Toma… There seems to be a static point in this world which I belonged to. In short, I love it.

The same sunlight scattered everywhere in the blackness that is soon approaching. I thought I knew this world, but evidently I forgot the blotted black stains. Ahead, i can see the school gate, and beyond that I can see the school chapel. Shin always said I was incredibly oblivious to everything. Well, as much as I hate admitting to it, it is partially true. For what other reasons can one forget one's jack-of-trade? Evidently an idiot.

I wish Shin was here, despite his brooding and somewhat awkward presence. This world is so quiet. And I loved a summer where everything was quiet.

Oh how wrong I was.

('_Where are you going?' _He said)

I thought I knew where I was going. The floor creaked as I walked down the stairs; I knew the rhythm well. Yet there was something running amok in the familiar rhythm, breaking it into bits. Evidently, someone was there. Then I saw his green hair. Breaking the railings and laughing like a maniac. I wondered if he was alright.

In a sudden moment, I caught his eyes.

They were green, with a dash of flame in it.

I should have realized what he was a long time ago, after all, posters demanding for his arrest were everywhere on campus. He was, an arsonist.

He slowly threw away the lighter. Following the direction of his maniac will, it landed on the floor close to me. I can feel the scorching heat as it start to burn the wood. To his satisfaction (and my terror) It grew steadily. _Why didn't you move when you could have? _

The flame started growing. And I was still trapped. In the end, it wasn't long before I accepted my fate of being trapped in a matrix of falling logs and blazing fire. I wanted to ask him, '_am I going to die here?' _

No answer. He wasn't even here. I guess I will have to.

The wooden board underneath finally broke, giving in to the fire he had started. I fell. And I kept falling into a sea of fire, with no-one to catch me.

_I miss you._

If I had known that I was going to die today, I would have told you that.

_Goodbye._

* * *

It wasn't until much later that I realized I had died.

Death. It is an interesting concept. To be born and then to have everything wiped out, leaving no traces of your memory or personality. Where do the people you once loved go? Well, apparently nowhere.

I don't know how long I was there for. The blackness surrounding me was comfortable, and warm. The next time I woke up again, it was the sound of a million people crying. Or laughing. Mixed with the smell of tears, blood and rotten corpses, I can't tell if the world is mocking itself, or crying over its cruelty.

_Wake up, he said. I will take you places._

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Amnesia


	2. Bleed

**Bleed**

_How long does it take for me to wake up? Not until the streets of Paris became flooded with blood._

* * *

Dark. Warm. Like black water running in the silence of an unknown, murky world.

I tried to visualize a door guarding this place. Maybe it will be tall, dark and cast a shadow in the way of sunlight. Maybe there will be those gargoyles you see in gothic novels. But what would be behind that door? Light? Tokyo? My parent's house?

_Is this an imprisonment of my mind? What is the objective of death? _

I don't know how long I have slept here. This place is so frigid, warm yet you are left completely immobile. It invites you to give up your will, and be persuaded into its dark embrace.

This place is warm, yet sight is completely useless here. Nothing can be seen. Such is how I learnt what torture is.

But I like this place, truthfully

* * *

In a static world, I would lay in this darkness forever. But nothing in the world is destined to stay, I can feel someone tugging away at my consciousness, just trying to wake me up.

'Wake up'

But I don't want to.

But I have to.

Suddenly the darkness disappeared. Instead, a mass of sunlight rushed through the skylight, rendering me blinded again. Warmth disappeared, only to be replaced with the harsh gushes of wind beating against my face. _I had a body. _ In this unknown world which reeked of blood, dirt and an overwhelming stench of alcohol.

I opened my eyes. And I saw an execution grounds, masses of people in drags. I was in the middle of an execution ground, much to my dismay. I thought I would be somewhere much nicer.

('_but we don't have a choice_')

People around me were cursing whoever is at the execution block. Completely unintelligible. I can't tell what kind of crime he has committed, but I knew that they must've done great wrongs, otherwise these people wouldn't be shouting at him for no random reason. Or so I think.

The blade fell.

Again.

And Again.

And Again.

Splashing blood on me. And everyone around me.

Yet they don't seem to mind blood wrecking their already ragged clothes.

(_'Why do you think it is so?'_)

The crowd roared in ecstasy when the executioner held up the decapitated head. At that moment, it no longer belonged to a person. I guess some law of nature dictated that the decapitated head is no more than an object; where it came from, what its memories were mattered not.

In that second I wondered if I am truly alive. Can anyone else see me? Am I one degree above an inanimate object because I am breathing? Who am I? What is my name? Why am I here?

('_Don't question it. Just accept the present as it is.'_)

The answer I found was in the panicked expression in a guard's eyes. I looked at my reflections in his eyes. it was as if he had seen a traitor of some kind. I had no time to wonder what he thought of me, for the guards around him started running towards me.

I guess it's only natural to run away from death. I have lived too little of this world to be sick of it.

('_Good'_)

So I ran down the road, hoping that they would never catch me. Turn left, turn right, I tried and tried to escape into the darkness that would perfectly cover my existence, and my ragged dress. In the end, there's really no way to go.

In this world, I guess I have to pay with my blood yet again.

Ahead, I can only see mist, covering the vast empty street, streaked with blood smears again.

('_But you still have to run'_)

To the left, I can see a pub, with the bartender pouring liquid red as blood.

And him, eyes red and gleaming like a ruby under light. I guess I had no chance but to run inside.

('_It seems you've already decided'_)

It's strange, I thought, how this world seems to want me to bleed to death, as if they knew who I was already.

* * *

Yet who am I? Until this far I still don't know who I am.

I sat in front of the bar, with a world explore yet nothing in my mind.

Maybe, maybe next time I will stop running and see the world through a different pair of lenses.

* * *

_There was a million ways I could've apologized, but the moment I saw you again, I froze as if my body and soul did not belong to me anymore._

_AN: I do not own any of the characters or Amnesia._


End file.
